


Fantasies

by Del (goddessdel)



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Blow Jobs, Community: eleventy_kink, Dubious Consent Due To Identity Issues, Eleven is hung, F/M, Incest, Incest Kink, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mostly before they know who River is, Multi, POV Rory Williams, Prompt Fill, Pseudo-Incest, Sexual Roleplay, Size Kink, Smut, Voyeurism, they're not genetically related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 09:43:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19391518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goddessdel/pseuds/Del
Summary: Rory can't decide if he hopes for or dreads the very real possibility that he's having a vivid hallucination.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There was an Eleventy_Kink prompt: _Rory struggling with the fact that he fantasied about River before he found out she was his daughter._
> 
> For whatever reason, I couldn't get it out of my head, even though this isn't in any way my usual fare. Instead, I wrote this extremely kinky PWP to fill it. I've finally decided that there's no point not sharing it with the world just because it's kinky as all get out. So mind the tags and either run in here for the kink or run away from the squick.
> 
> Written: 7/30/15-5/2/16
> 
> No longer anonymous as of ch. 3 because I put on my big girl pants.

Rory navigates the TARDIS by the console room. He has a - perfectly reasonable - fear of being lost in the changing, winding halls, so he carefully picks his way back to the console room to get his bearings before making for the kitchen and a midnight glass of milk to help him sleep.

He's padding through the door before he can properly process that there are strange noises emanating and Rory freezes on the spot when he looks up.

The Doctor is leaning against the console, starkers, his head thrown back and eyes screwed shut. On her knees before him reclines River Song, equally undressed and completely occupied with the Doctor's cock in her mouth.

Her body is perfect beyond Rory's wildest, most secret imaginings. From this angle he can make out her glorious arse, pert and voluptuous, and the barest hint of her full breasts, swaying with her exertions.

Her hands are busy, one on the Doctor's arse and the other obscured by her hair, and she knows exactly what she's doing with her mouth, taking in the Doctor with a practiced ease that is all the more impressive for his size.

Thinking about the Doctor's massive cock is just enough of a turn off to jolt Rory back into reality - where he's spying on the Doctor and his lover in the middle of the night, in the Doctor's own ship.

Worse, Rory realizes with mounting horror, not only is it turning him on but one of his hands has already sneaked into his pants to stroke his hard cock.

Rory tells himself firmly to stop and walk away - milk be damned, he needs a cold shower - but then River reaches for the Doctor's white-knuckled hands and brings them to her hair.

He responds eagerly, wrapping her curls in a fist to keep them out of her face, unintentionally giving Rory an even better view.

River settles her hands on the Doctor's hips, moving him more forcefully, more urgently, until he takes the hint. River clearly likes it rougher.

Rory bites back a whimper and starts stroking himself in earnest as the Doctor's grip on River's hair tightens and his hips snap forward. River makes a pleased, humming sound, swallowing him down to the root every time, while the Doctor seems to be reduced to babbling gibberish.

It's hard not to imagine himself in the Doctor's place, with a woman as gorgeous as River on her knees and letting him have his way with her.

Rory comes in his pants with his hand around his cock like an over-eager teenager, watching River suck off the Doctor and wishing it were him instead.

Shame follows hot on the heels of his release and Rory backs awkwardly, carefully away, shuffling to the nearest loo to clean himself up and hopefully wash away his voyeurism.

From behind him, he hears a low groan and then the satisfied hum of River's laughter, and he has to shake his head to clear the vision of her naked, swimming across his mind.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy is gorgeous. The only woman he's ever been with or ever even _wanted_ to be with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features Amy/Rory, some attempts at non-vanilla sex, and some inappropriate fantasies.

"Suck me off," Rory whispers to Amy in bed a few nights later, hardly believing his own daring but unable to stop himself - the image from the console room impossible to shake.

"I - what?" Amy stills in his arms, used to being the one making all the demands. "Um, okay."

She's uncharacteristically shy and giggly as she makes her way down the bed, tossing her hair dramatically over her shoulder in an exaggerated, overtly sexual gesture.

Amy is gorgeous. The only woman he's ever been with or ever even _wanted_ to be with and she's about to wrap her lips around his cock.

Rory takes a moment to thank every deity he can think of that he's lucky enough to have Amy Pond in his bed.

Her mouth is heavenly, a wet, warm pressure stroking him. Amy rarely does this but, when she does, she always drags it out, teasing him and reminding him exactly who is in control.

For the first time, that's not enough. He doesn't want her slow, teasing strokes and licks. He wants something more - he wants to be the one in control.

The vision of River on her knees with the Doctor's hands in her hair and his cock pounding into her mouth has been haunting his dreams and it resurfaces tauntingly, as though it were here and now, them instead of Amy or the Doctor.

Before he can stop himself, Rory fists Amy's hair and lets his hips rock up more urgently into her mouth. She sputters and pulls back almost immediately, looking up at him with wide, shocked eyes.

"What was that?!" She wipes at a spot of drool on her mouth and crosses her arms over her bare chest, glaring.

Rory winces, hot shame replacing the arousal of only a moment before. "Are you okay? I'm sorry - I just - I thought - uh - sorry. I'm sorry."

He reaches for her but Amy withdraws. "I'm fine. I'm going to brush my teeth," she declares, wrapping her fuzzy pink dressing gown firmly about her and stalking away before Rory can say anything else.

Rory presses his face into his pillow and hates himself.

...

He wakes to someone poking him rather firmly in the side. Amy is sat next to him on the bed in the dark, still wrapped in her fuzzy dressing gown, her arms crossed protectively over her chest. "Wake up, numpty."

"Amy - I'm sorry about before, I -"

"Shut up."

He does.

Amy sighs, twisting her hair through her fingers in a nervous gesture she doesn't normally indulge. For someone who is all brash confidence 99% of the time, it's reassuring and terrifying to see her so vulnerable. "If you wanted to try something - kinky? I'm not saying no, but you can't just spring something like that on me." She frowns, uncertain. "What exactly were you thinking because I'll tell you right now, I'm not into being spanked."

"No, no, nothing like that," Rory hastily assures her, sitting up to take Amy's hands in his and pointedly ignoring the traitorous part of his mind that suddenly can't stop thinking about spanking. "I just thought - well, that maybe - you're usually the one in charge, and I love you in charge, but I thought, well... that I could try?"

Amy nods, uncertainly at first and then more firmly. She offers him a tentative smile. "You're going to have to do better than that, then."

Rory swallows hard at the permission in her tone. If he has one chance at this, he doesn't want to bugger it up. Right. "Take off your clothes. Slowly."

There, that was all right, wasn't it? Amy seems to think so because she flashes him a saucy wink and shifts onto her knees to shimmy out of her dressing gown.

"What next?"

That's an excellent question. He's given this scenario way more thought than he could have ever imagined in the last few days and he still finds himself completely out of his depth without Amy in charge.

He doesn't know if he can pull this off with her staring up expectantly at him, waiting to see if he fails or not. "Turn around. On your hands and knees."

Amy arches an amused eyebrow but actually does it. "No spanking."

"I know," he reminds her, breaking character. "Uh, do we need a safe word or something?"

"Raggedy man," Amy replies without thought.

Rory feels his erection wilt. "Uh, could we not bring him into our bedroom?"

"Then don't do anything stupid and we won't have to," Amy declares, amused. "Besides, it'll work. Isn't that the point?"

Right. This is not getting off to the best start. "Fine. Quiet," Rory half begs.

He can practically feel Amy's glare, but she bites back her stinging retort with obvious effort.

That's a little better. Rory takes his time running his hands along Amy's long, lean body. She's not exactly curvy - not like the traitorous curves he can't stop envisioning - but she's familiar and gorgeous and he quickly rallies. Amy seems to be enjoying herself by the way she spreads her legs when his hands stroke her there, opening up for him with a glorious whimper.

He revels in turning the tables for once - in being the one to tease Amy with barely there strokes of his fingers until she's whimpering and arching into him, wet and ready.

Instead of teasing her further, Rory takes his cock in hand and lines himself up, working himself into her welcoming heat with a steady thrust.

He has to bite back the urge to check if that's okay but, when no safe word appears, he holds on tightly to Amy's hips and starts thrusting in earnest, giving into a wild abandon that he never normally dares.

Amy squeaks at the surprising pace, trying to match his rhythm. Rory shoves her roughly down, wrapping his fist in her hair and tugging a bit in time with his thrusts.

Only he must tug a bit too hard because Amy yelps and bucks back. "Okay, no. Stop. Just - stop."

Rory freezes, sweating and shaking and caught painfully between orgasm and the terrible fear that he's hurt her. "I - sorry - too much?"

Amy rolls out from under him with an apologetic look. "I just - I don't like being out of control." She bites her lip and eyes him speculatively before pushing him back and straddling him teasingly. "This okay?"

"This? Yeah," she ruts against him until they're both frantic again, "this is great."

When Amy sinks over him, Rory throws his head back against the bed and closes his eyes, trying not to picture someone else entirely.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rory doesn't even try not to look.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features very voyeuristic Rory and River/Eleven revisited.

It's a few weeks later when, on his now nightly trek for warm milk, Rory hears a sinuous giggle from the console room. There's a guilty twinge in his gut but Rory doesn't even try not to look. Instead, he tiptoes carefully until he can see just into the console room, imagination running ahead of him.

After all, he reasons, there are more rooms in this ship than the grandest of palaces - certainly, if they wanted privacy, they could find their way to one.

There's a trail of clothing scattered haphazardly across the floor, the Doctor's tweed closest to the door. The Doctor himself is sat on the jumpseat, a very naked River Song riding him with abandon.

River's back is to Rory, her voluminous hair blocking the Doctor from view. Which is perfectly fine with Rory, unable to tear his eyes from her perfect, bouncing arse and more than willing to fantasize that it's him on the jumpseat instead of the Doctor.

Rory quickly takes his cock in hand, stroking himself roughly in time to River's pace.

Before now, Rory had never fancied himself a voyeur; he's still not sure he'd consider himself one by choice. But he's been wanking off to the image of a naked River Song, even just from behind - especially just from behind - for the last few weeks in the bath, and he's not about to walk away from new viewing material.

River's pace is impressive. She tosses her hair and rolls her hips and makes the most sinful, knee-weakening moans. Rory has to bite his lip to stop from making any noise of his own, though he doubts River or the Doctor could hear him.

  
For his part, the Doctor is gripping River tightly, his hands sliding from her impossibly tiny waist to her full arse, encouraging her with a bold squeeze. The man himself seems once again reduced to near incoherency, not that Rory can blame him, left a whimpering mess only by proxy.

He can't make out what they're saying - just a low rumble that must be the Doctor's voice, though he's never heard it quite like that, and the purr of River's, which always sounds like that. She laughs and somehow it's only sexier, all sound through her lips rendered hopelessly erotic.

River arches her back, twisting her hips and dragging the Doctor close for a messy kiss. Every move of her body is perfection, full of lithe grace and a blatant, deliberate sexuality.

Whatever she does with her hips must be as impressive as it looks because the Doctor clutches at her, the slick slap of their bodies giving way to a cacophony of moans around gasping breaths and needy kisses.

Rory is so aroused that he barely has to touch himself before he's coming hard, fighting against spots in his vision and the effort of not making a sound.

The self-loathing rushes in before the wet spot in his pants can even cool, and Rory pushes himself off the support of the TARDIS wall with some difficulty, willing his shaking legs to lead him to a loo and then maybe to the kitchen for a stiff drink. He wipes his sticky hand on his pajama leg and backs carefully away from the enticing scene in front of him, already knowing it's the only thing he'll be able to see the next time he closes his eyes.

He is so fucked.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Honesty's the best policy, yeah?" She sounds like she's trying to convince herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rory/Amy. Confessions and roleplay.

Sex with Amy has been a bit awkward since their failed attempt to switch roles. Rory's not beyond admitting that it's mostly his fault - he can't seem to stop fantasizing about shagging River and, while River and Amy are both gorgeous in their own ways, they're physically very different women.

Amy is trim, with legs for days but not much in the way of curves. And curves are very much on his mind lately - River's bountiful curves in particular.

Rory feels a bit like Hester Prynne - he'd read it in school - sure that Amy can see a flaming letter on his chest declaring that he's been fantasizing about another woman. He never thought he'd be that guy but, well, he can't seem to stop himself.

Though he'd pretty much figured Amy's response would be more furious - yelling and calling him names and throwing things. Instead, she seems uncharacteristically shy in the bedroom, leaving neither of them in charge and both of them at a loss - fumbling like when they were both still virgins.

Tonight, Amy's hands fidget as she waits for him in bed, darting glances at him out of the corner of her eye. "Honesty's the best policy, yeah?" She sounds like she's trying to convince herself.

Rory feels like a heel. "Yeah." He takes a deep breath. "Look, Amy, there's something-"

"Me first." She cuts him off. "I have this fantasy and I'm just gonna say it and then you can tell me one of yours and we can just move on, yeah?"

Rory nods. "Okay, sure."

"Right, good. I don't want you to make this a thing but... IkindahadafantasyabouttheDoctor."

She hides behind her hair while Rory struggles to figure out what she actually said. Then. _Oh_. "You had a fantasy about the Doctor. Like, a _dirty_ fantasy?"

She nods from behind her hair.

When they first started travelling with the Doctor, this would have been Rory's worst nightmare. His fiancé, fantasizing about the man who whisked her away to see the stars the night before their wedding.

Given his recent prurient thoughts about the Doctor's partner, Rory has to admit that it would be ridiculous to indulge that raw feeling of jealousy creeping about his insides. Worse, he realizes he has to admit to his own fantasies. He couldn't live with himself otherwise.

"Is it really weird then, if I've done a bit of the same?"

Amy's head shoots up, "You've fantasied about the Doctor?" She seems far too intrigued at the prospect and he thinks he's stumbled upon another of her fantasies.

Rory bites at his lip, shaking his head slightly. "No. Uh - River?"

"Oh, well, who hasn't? She's gorgeous." Amy teases easily, and then quiets. "You still like me though, right?"

Rory reaches for her hands, soothing their fidgeting. "Amy. I love you. I'll always love you. It's just a fantasy. People have fantasies, yeah?"

Eyes wide, Amy nods, biting at her lip. "You're not cross that I thought about the Doctor _like that_?"

Shaking his head, Rory deadpans, "Well, who hasn't? He's gorgeous." Then winces. "Don't ever tell him I said that, even jokingly."

Amy rolls her eyes but seems relieved. "Your secret's safe with me, Centurion." She settles closer before confiding, "I saw them shagging the other day - River and the Doctor. It was - hot."

It's the most uncertain he's ever seen Amy, as though she's confessing a terrible secret. She wiggles closer to him, and he thinks she's turned on just remembering it. He knows the feeling. "You could show me."

"They're not there now, numpty." Still nervous, she laughs lightly. "Oh, you mean - like, role-play?"

Hardly daring to breathe, Rory nods.

She considers it, wrinkling her nose in concentration. "They were up against a wall."

"All right. Yeah."

They scramble out of bed. Rory reaches for the elastic to his pajama bottoms but Amy stops him, resting her back against the wall nearest their headboard and dragging him closer by his collar. "Come here.... Doctor?"

It's more than a bit weird but it's not necessarily _bad_ weird. And when he reminds himself that it's River up against that wall instead of Amy - River and he's the Doctor - Rory thinks it might actually be really _good_ weird.

He nods, letting Amy drag him closer until his fingers can sneak under the hem of her nightshirt. She's soaking wet already, mouthing at his neck and breathing heavily in his ear. "Run away with me tonight," he whispers, trying to be the Doctor, caught thinking of River while his fingers stroke Amy's clit. "I'll show you the universe."

"You can show me something bigger than the universe right here," Amy demands, warming to the part, somehow different than she normally would be, despite being just as demanding. "Shut up and fuck me already."

She drags him closer for a needy kiss and it's all too easy to imagine that it's River Song he's pressing back into the wall as he hikes up her nightdress and she shoves at his pajama bottoms.

Amy grips at their headboard to steady herself, which is a bit complicated and he spares a moment's longing for the bunk beds, her other hand in his hair and one long leg wrapping around his waist as Rory takes hold of his cock and guides himself inside her.

It's probably a good thing they're quickly too distracted by the complicated position and desperate need for release because they neither have to keep up their roles nor abandon them. Rory closes his eyes without any shame, grabbing Amy's arse to hitch her closer and imagining the feel of a different one under his palm.

Rory quickly brings his other hand to her clit, rubbing the swollen nub until she's gasping and shrieking, because he's so close he can barely hold himself back. He lasts just long enough to get her off before the rhythmic clenching of her muscles around his cock sends him spiraling over the edge.

He comes back to himself with the curtain of Amy's bright hair framing his face. They disentangle carefully, Amy rubbing a bit at her back and quickly scurrying for the loo after a brief peck of a kiss.

Rory cleans himself up on a dirty shirt and hunkers down in their bed, waiting anxiously for Amy's return.

She hurries under the covers, not quite meeting his eyes until the light is off. "That was... fun..." she hedges, though he can't tell whose feelings she's trying to spare. "I liked it better than not being in control."

With a relieved sigh, Rory pulls her close. "Yeah, fun. Like you said - we don't have to make it a thing. We've got a whole lifetime together to try out fantasies or role-play or none of the above. You're who I want - got it?"

Amy rolls her eyes - he can tell, even in the dark - she always does when he starts getting sentimental - but she snuggles closer. "I guess a whole lifetime with your stupid face might not be the worst thing in the world."

Rory presses a kiss into her silky smooth hair and doesn’t, even for a moment, wish for anyone else. "Night, Amy."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They'd never spoken of that one night again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter: here be where all the tags get all explicit. Everyone knows. Everybody/Everybody.
> 
> Thanks for coming on this wild ride with me.

They wander into the console room in the midst of a debate over whether they should make another attempt at Space Florida and risk the Doctor landing them in the wet season.

The sight of River and the Doctor _in flagrante_ through the glass floors stops them cold.

Rory darts a glance at Amy, uncomfortably hard against his will, wondering whether they should just back out or if they should say something. But Amy is looking at her feet or through the floor, her eyes shielded by her curtain of flaming red hair.

They'd never spoken of that one night again. And after River told them who she was, Rory did everything he could to scrub those lecherous encounters from his mind, the very thought of them leaving him a horrifying combination of aroused and sickened.

Now Rory clears his throat awkwardly, heaving an exasperated sigh to cover his shameful embarrassment as he asks, "Isn't there any place you two could go that would be a little less... in public?"

Below them, the Doctor makes an undignified noise and starts, his eyes darting up through the floor and then away again. River stills momentarily, catching the Doctor when he nearly topples them both backwards off the TARDIS swing.

Of course, it's River who responds. "But it's such a rush in public - you two should really try it sometime."

And Rory realizes that her hips are still moving over the Doctor's: subtle, slow revolutions. Rory attempts to tear his eyes away from the creamy expanse of her arse and fails, hating himself.

The Doctor seems to have regained the power of speech, though he sounds embarrassed and annoyed, no doubt by the interruption. "Not that we're actually in public. Can't get much more private than in my own ship."

"A ship you're not alone on," Amy mutters, staring a bit more blatantly now, one eyebrow arched in curiosity or amusement.

"Yes, well, Ponds - you could learn to knock!"

Amy rolls her eyes but she doesn't make any move to leave. "Knock where? There aren't any doors to the console room!"

The Doctor seems to be having difficulty following the conversation, not that Rory can blame him. Whatever River is doing with her hips seems to be rendering the Doctor virtually speechless - an impressive feat. The Doctor's hands grip River's arse tightly, apparently beyond himself to stop what is happening here.

Rory knows how he feels, shifting uncomfortably and shoving his hands in his pockets, aching to touch himself.

Nobody says anything for a minute too long, and Rory realizes that Amy and him are both still in the room, still staring, watching River - their _daughter!_ \- having sex with the Doctor.

River must realize it too because she has a rapid-fire, whispered conversation with the Doctor and then, turning to eye them - or certain parts of Rory's anatomy, specifically - very closely, offers, "If you're not going to leave, you're welcome to join in. The Doctor and I never mind a bit of company."

Rory is still checking his ears and pinching himself - hard, in a sensitive place - because he can't possibly have heard her right, when he hears Amy suck in a breath.

"I - that's - we're family. It's wrong."

He can't quite make out the tone in Amy's voice - it's something a bit too light and uncertain, like he's never heard her before.

The Doctor is eyeing them with a strange, speculative look. Of course, it's not the Doctor they're related to. And Rory can't even believe he's even considering this.

River shrugs, still focused on bringing herself and the Doctor off, her hands on his chest and her hips circling ever less discretely. "There are a number of cultures where that's considered perfectly normal, encouraged even. Besides, speaking strictly genetically, we're not technically related anymore."

Rory has a sudden vision of teenage shenanigans with Mels - ones he's tried to purge from his mind since discovering who she truly was - spin the bottle and dares and stolen kisses. He wonders if Amy's remembering that as well when her feet start to shuffle toward the lower staircase.

Rory and Amy pointedly don't look at each other or touch, selecting opposite staircases to descend.

And then they're right there, standing right next to the Doctor and River as she gives up all pretense of discretion and snaps her hips over the Doctor's, her breasts and arse bouncing with her motions and strangled little keening sounds escaping both of them.

"We'll just be a mo' and then we can move this somewhere more... comfortable," River offers, her voice low and sex-roughened and full of promise. "Why don't you two go ahead and get warmed up?"

Casual, just like that. Like it's every day that she proposes an orgy while in the middle of shagging her husband. Rory swallows hard - for all he knows, it is every day for them. Certainly not something like this but, well... he's trying hard not to think on the specifics of what he and Amy have tacitly agreed to.

The Doctor nods helplessly, apparently too far gone to care, his hands roaming River's body with increasing zeal.

Rory carefully, purposefully pretends he misunderstood her meaning. "I don't think that's necessary - it's quite hot already."

Only, when he hears it out loud, it doesn't sound like he's talking about the temperature of the room.

And just when Rory thinks that he can't possibly be more embarrassed and live, River laughs, the sound low and flirty. "Is it, now? Well then, I know we'd love to watch."

Rory ducks his head, feeling his cheeks flame, but River doesn't seem to notice, rolling her hips smartly over the Doctor's and giving into a low, needy moan.

The Doctor says something too low to hear, one of his hands sliding between them while the other grips River's arse.

  
River makes a choked noise and falls forward, kissing the Doctor to muffle what sounds suspiciously like a scream ( _don't worry, I'm quite the screamer_ ) as her hips stutter and finally still.

Feeling uncomfortably hot all over, Rory tries to ignore his throbbing erection or the fact that he's yet to look away from the spectacle on display before them.

Or how very much he wants to hear River scream.

The Doctor's hands slacken and River sits up more gingerly, stretching with a lithe, sensual roll. The Doctor follows her, one hand wrapped around River and the other around the swing for balance, and they manage to disentangle themselves and stand easily enough that Rory has the distinct impression that they've practiced it.

Neither of them seem concerned by their nudity, though there's probably not much point after that display. Hands loosely clasped, River and the Doctor exchange meaningful glances.

It's actually the Doctor who offers his easy, lopsided grin. "Right then. Come along, Ponds!"

...

They end up in a room that Rory's never seen before and clearly doesn't belong to anyone - no personal effects; just a giant, comfortable looking bed that seems designed for exactly this purpose. Not that he knows what their purpose is - or, well, he does but he's trying very, very hard not to think right now.

It's a little hard not to think though, with the Doctor and River carelessly starkers and freshly shagged - there's a flush still staining the Doctor's chest, his fringe tussled and sweat-slicked across his forehead, and River has red marks blooming across her arse and hips and breasts.

The Doctor bounces immediately onto the bed, grinning, inviting, apparently completely unconcerned at this entire situation.

River settles on the bed more serenely, patting the ample space next to her. "Why don't you two get more comfortable and come join us?" She senses their hesitation and offers a not-entirely-reassuring smile. "Nothing will happen that you don't want - we can stop at any point if you say so."

Rory doesn't know how to respond to such a direct statement and offer. Apparently he doesn't need to bother marshalling his thoughts though because Amy takes a bold step forward, lifting the hem of her jumper and pulling it off, leaving her breasts bared while she quickly wiggles out of her boots and skirt. She turns her head to Rory, not quite meeting his eyes. "Hurry up, numpty." She's already stripping off her knickers and socks.

Right then. Thinking is definitely overrated in this situation. Rory can't decide if he hopes for or dreads the very real possibility that he's having a vivid hallucination.

Taking a deep breath, Rory tugs off his jumper and focuses on doffing the rest of his clothes, trying not to think about exactly who he's undressing for. "Right. Yeah. Okay."

He hesitates at his pants but it's a little late for that and he shoves them to his ankles just as Amy grabs his hand and drags him into bed after her.

The bed is ridiculously soft and comfortable, as though it's molding to his body and he's floating. It's easier that way, to feel like maybe this is all just a dream with a lot more naked bodies than his dreams usually contain.

There's some hesitation as everyone settles in, hands reaching out and eyes seeking reassurances he's not quite ready to admit to.

It's easiest to focus on Amy at first, probably for all of them, and she certainly doesn't seem to mind the attention, sprawled out naked on the overly-large bed while three pairs of hands grope her. It's easy to let his mind drift, the room and the moment acquiring a hazy edge of fantasy as hands trace across his chest and thighs - hands that are larger and smaller than Amy's or his own.

They're arranged around Amy as the center of their universe - narrowed at the moment to the bed they occupy - the Doctor on one side of her while River and Rory are on the other.

The caressing hands turn more purposeful. It's River's hand that slips between Amy's thighs with slow but decisive strokes, leaving plenty of time for Amy to push her away.

She doesn't, of course. Once Amy commits, she's too stubborn to backtrack, no matter what she's gotten herself into. Not that Rory wants her to backtrack. He doesn't know what he wants her to do - what _he_ wants to do - but they're both here now and there's a part of him that very much wants to be.

He has an excellent view as the Doctor encourages Amy to spread her legs and River runs her fingers between them. Amy's eyes are squeezed closed but she makes encouraging little whimpering noises as River strokes her and the Doctor and Rory lavish her breasts with attention, one each.

Amy's hands snake out to her sides, reaching blindly but with surprising accuracy to grip Rory and the Doctor's cocks, stroking them loosely but determinedly - not about to leave them out of the party.

The sense of un-reality increases, blurring with the increasing ache in his cock, stroked expertly by his wife's familiar hand. Except there's an unfamiliar hand on his side and more hands than just his own on his wife.

River is working Amy up slowly, circling her clit before dipping first one and then two fingers inside her. Her technique appears to be more than satisfactory, judging by Amy's needy whimpers, by the firm grip of her hand on his cock.

Dazedly glancing up, he notes the Doctor watching the proceedings with heavy-lidded interest. With an impressive amount of multi-tasking, the Doctor has one hand at Amy's breast and the other stroking across River's breasts and anywhere else he can reach her.

As River's attentions grow more diligent, thrusting two fingers steadily into Amy's sex, her eyes catch the Doctor's meaningfully.

Almost immediately, the Doctor's larger hand slowly trails down Amy's side to join his wife's. Amy's whole body shivers under their combined touch, a new _hoo-ooh_ sound stuttering across her lips, strangled but clearly pleased.

"That's it, open up, Pond," the Doctor praises in that same low voice that even Rory has to admit is half danger and mostly sex-god.

There are four fingers inside her now, stroking her and spreading her, and Rory watches in a sort of helpless fascination as she shudders under each clearly expert touch.

She doesn't last long after that, forgetting her task as her hands fall to her sides to clutch at the bedsheets and her head thrashes. She bites her lip and comes with that strange muffled sound again rather than her normal, sharper shriek.

River withdraws her hand, trailing sticky fingers across Amy's still quivering thighs. She presses a heated kiss to the Doctor's lips before withdrawing from him as well, eyebrow arched and smirk in place. "Be gentle."

The Doctor smirks right back, never stopping the motions of his fingers between Amy's legs. "I always am."

Lifting her head, Amy protests breathlessly, "I can take it!"

River pats Amy's thigh one last time, looking vaguely amused. "That's what they all say, dear."

It's an unwitting reminder that this, or something like this, is far more commonplace for River and the Doctor than Amy and Rory. Amy's probably too far gone to notice, already close to her second orgasm by the way she's flushed and trembling.

Rory's not quite sure what to do with himself - eyes fixed on the relative safety of his wife - when River takes his hand and places it over the soft warmth of her breast, her nipple peaked under his palm.

He squeezes out of reflex, massaging the delectable flesh and unable to stop from giving her other breast the same treatment. River makes a pleased, humming sound, her hands stroking gently down his sides.

Rory keeps his eyes at her chest, letting a twisted wave of lust overpower anything else as her small hands traverse his body in increasingly bold strokes. He can hear Amy and the Doctor in the background, but then River lets out a pleased moan and Rory is drawn helplessly to the sound, bending his head to take one of her nipples into his mouth as he fondles her other breast.

  
She makes that low, pleased noise again and it's suddenly all he can think about, his tongue flicking at her nipple and his hands squeezing and caressing her.

He's lightheaded when he comes up for air, startled by her hand on his painfully hard cock.

"Something to take the edge off?" River queries, eyeing Rory's erection pointedly.

She doesn't give him any time to respond though before her hand is replaced by the hot wet heat of her mouth enveloping the head of his cock and working steadily down.

It hits him all at once: this is really happening. River is sucking his cock and it's every bit as good - no better - than he'd fantasized. His body shudders, torn between retching and coming, only the sweet ecstasy of her tongue wrapped around his cock is quickly overpowering the rush of nausea. River pulls back to suck on the head of his cock before taking him back down to the root again, a smooth rhythm that leaves him all but whimpering.

To their right Amy makes that _hoo-ooh_ sound again and Rory turns his head to watch the Doctor hitching her legs over his shoulder and up to her ears as he works his bloody massive cock inside her.

The tight ball in the pit of his stomach resolves itself all at once and Rory is coming quick and hard before he can stop himself. He makes a strangled noise but can't even come close to finding the words to voice a warning, his hands clutching desperately at River's hair.

River doesn't falter, swallowing him down one last time before gently disentangling his hands from her hair and withdrawing, a smirk on her swollen lips.

It feels as though she sucked out his brains, leaving him brainless and boneless against the bed, caught up in a hazy pleasure he never wants to come down from.

River turns to watch the show of Amy and the Doctor, sliding up the bed and lounging on her side in a pose that would make a pin-up girl jealous, licking her lips. "Not a bad view, yeah?"

He doesn't know whether she means herself or Amy and the Doctor but he nods dumbly either way, still struck mute by his recent orgasm. By everything.

"We'll join them in a bit, if you like," River continues. "I'm sure we can occupy ourselves in the meantime."

Rory needs more than a minute to recover from River sucking him off - he's not sure he ever will - but he can't resist the siren lure of her curves so blatantly on display before him.

He caresses her breasts first, kneading the soft, heavy weight of them in his hands, working up to caressing her stomach and side, one hand finally braving a sweep across her arse. It's just as glorious as he'd imagined, full and firm. A whinging sound escapes him entirely involuntarily.

River laughs gently, "I never figured you for an arse man," and rolls playfully onto her stomach, baring said arse with anything but innocence.

His hands are drawn to her arse of their own accord, squeezing the supple, firm flesh in all its magnificent bounty. He has a sudden vision of fucking her, on her hands and knees, holding onto that arse as he drives his cock into it.

Mortified by his own thoughts, Rory lets go of her, not sure what to do with himself or the surge of lust that tried valiantly to stir his spent cock at the image.

River shifts back to her side, watching him. "Come now, no need to be shy," she laughs, kindly, but her point is well taken.

Rory's not quite sure that he's ready to admit to that particular fantasy but he does know better than to waste an opportunity, especially when he's already in too deep. So he shakes his head with a self-depreciating smile, cheeks still flaming when he looks at her. "That's me, all right - _shy_."

River's laugh turns to a moan when he musters up the courage to touch her again, his hands burning against her skin as he works his hesitant, shaking way up her parted thighs. She's wet and slippery as he slides his fingers through her curls until he's touching the slick skin of her sex, so soft and warm.

She throws her head back and moans, a clearly encouraging sound. But Rory finds himself half frozen, not sure what's allowed or how to proceed. He's never even been with anyone other than Amy before.

"Here," River offers, her hand settling across his.

Rory closes his eyes and nods, letting her lead as she guides him, showing him how to touch her the way she likes. He shouldn't be surprised that it's a bit hard or fast, given what he's seen of her, or that she's so wet and ready, given what he's seen of her tonight.

It still takes him by surprise when she drives two of his fingers into her sex, her grip around his wrist demanding until he takes up the rhythm on his own. Rory dares to open his eyes to find her own hand at her clit, fingers moving wickedly fast against the swollen flesh.

Her sex grips him, wet and warm and silky, and there's that jolt of lust again, of wanting to bury more than just his fingers inside her. Rory picks up the pace, suddenly determined to prove himself, driven on by the escalating moans echoing around him from all sides.

River is still watching the show next to them but Rory keeps his eyes on her. The way her skin glistens with sweat, the way her breasts sway as she writhes against the bed and their hands, the way her sex clenches at his fingers as he drives them inside her.

Finally, at last, River's eyes widen, her teeth closing on her lip as a new rush of wetness soaks his fingers. Rory withdraws quickly, wiping his sticky fingers on the covers but unable tear his gaze away from her, transfixed as she lounges, legs spread and hand still lazily stroking her own clit.

There's a shriek to his other side and he turns in time to meet Amy's wide, lust-blown eyes as she comes, the Doctor still buried inside her.

He nearly jumps out of his skin when River's hand skitters across his stomach, her voice low and sex-roughened at his ear. "They make a pretty picture, don't they?"

Rory's not quite sure what to make of that statement, especially from River's lips. They're certainly a pornographic picture, Amy's knees about her shoulders and her hands desperately clutching the bedsheets as the Doctor drives into her.

"I - uh -"

He's not sure how to respond but River doesn't seem to mind. Her hand slides lower, wrapping around his renewed erection and stroking him with a loose but adept grip. "We shouldn't let them have all the fun. Or are you still feeling shy?"

Rory shakes his head, struck mute as he watches River's tiny hand expertly sliding up and down his cock.

"Well then, what do you fancy?"

"River," he doesn't know how he manages to say her name, "I - I can't say it."

"Of course you can," she murmurs, the devil at his ear with her hand on his cock. "Who do you fancy fucking? Me? Amy?" She makes an appraising sound. "I'm sure the Doctor would be up for it either way round, if you'd prefer. Amy's not going to last much longer anyway."

Well that's something he hadn't even considered - him and the Doctor and, while it doesn’t appall him the way it once might've, that's not exactly what he fantasized about in the middle of the night. Something like a hysterical laugh bubbles up in his chest but Rory tromps it down.

He's saved from replying by Amy making a strangled, whimpering noise and the Doctor withdrawing at last. The Doctor flops bonelessly next to her on the bed, chest heaving, while Amy looks properly stunned as she stretches out her long legs, uncurling from her position bent neatly in half.

The Doctor lifts his head and must catch River's eye from his position sprawled naked between Rory and Amy. He watches them with more interest than jealousy, and Rory finds himself grudgingly impressed at how well everyone except him seems to be handling this.

"All right, Amy?" River calls, lifting her head so that she's not shouting in Rory's ear.

Amy rolls to her side, still fighting to catch her breath, her hair a tangled mess about her shoulders. "Oh, yeah," she agrees with a scratchy voice, watching the other occupants of the bed but not meeting anyone's eyes. "Go on. Just gimme a 'mo, yeah?"

After that it's a blur of limbs and hand and orgasms, until Rory finds himself too exhausted to worry about whose hand is on what or that they've all collapsed into a tangled heap of sweaty bodies.

He must drift off to sleep because he opens his eyes to muffled moans. Amy is curled against his chest, snoring lightly, and he still feels physically and emotionally hollowed out, numb.

Still bleary, Rory turns toward the source of the noise, startled to find River and the Doctor still wide awake and shagging like rabbits. He's starting to have a whole new appreciation for the stamina that two hearts provides and a sudden thankfulness that he'd not walked in on them more times than he had.

They've drifted to the other side of the overly large bed, so wrapped up in one another that Rory thinks perhaps they've forgotten they're not alone. The Doctor's head is buried in River's neck and her eyes are squeezed shut as her hands soothe across his back.

All his voyeuristic enthusiasm has faded and Rory closes his eyes again, quickly, not wanting to intrude.

When he opens them again, he and Amy are alone in their own bed and the night before has taken on that impossible feel of a particularly vivid, wildly disturbing, fantasy.


End file.
